


A Birthday

by silly_mortal



Category: Life Goes On (TV)
Genre: Birthday, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29673927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_mortal/pseuds/silly_mortal
Summary: It's the morning of Libby's birthday.
Relationships: Libby Thacher/Jerry Berkson
Kudos: 5





	A Birthday

-

“Is Mommy awake?”

“I don’t know yet,” came the whispered reply. “But be very quiet, so we can wake her _gently_ … I’m gonna put the tray over here.”

“Why are we bringing her food in here?”

“Because it’s a special day, so we’re giving her breakfast in bed… Now, keep your voice down, kiddo, so we don’t wake her yet.”

“Ok.”

Unbeknownst to her husband and son, Libby Berkson was already awake. However, she was not ready to face the day yet, not on the first day she would be 45-years-old, so she let the co-conspirators whisper back and forth, as she pretended to be asleep.

Normally, aging didn’t really bother her, but there was something about this birthday that struck her harder than usual. Forty-five. Only five more years to 50. Sheesh. 

Where had the time gone? It seemed like yesterday when she was holding her firstborn child in her arms. That was 25 years ago and, at the time, she was equally terrified and proud of her new baby. Now, she had three children who were young adults, with her youngest daughter hovering around the same age Libby was when she became pregnant with her oldest child – a fact that caused Libby many a sleepless night. She also had a son who was not quite a year away from having been considered a toddler.

Just five short years ago, her world was completely different than it was now. Back then, she was trapped in a miserable marriage with a man who had treated her poorly for half of her life. She had been bored and unfulfilled, both as a wife and as a woman. Now, after an acrimonious divorce, Libby was married to a man who would have been willing to give up everything he had for the chance to love her. If that wasn’t good enough, they also shared a beautiful son. From this perspective, forty-five was a lot better than forty had been.

Forty-five.

She hadn’t vocalized any displeasure about her age to Jerry who, after all, was only two short years away from 50. Of course, he still looked magnificent… He went for a run every single morning and managed to sneak in a workout three times a week. He had abs of steel and an ass to match and sometimes, when she watched him move around their office, it drove her crazy to picture them, under his business suits.

Their basement had been turned something Jerry and Corky happily referred to as the ‘Man Cave’ and, in addition to a massive TV, pool table and numerous gaming devices, it also had a section that was dedicated to exercise equipment. Libby considered that maybe she would start using that equipment herself. She’d finally managed to lose all of the baby weight, and then some, but maybe she should start trying to tone her body before Jerry decided to turn her in for a younger model.

She stopped herself. Jerry would never do that. He loved her beyond all reason and-

The bed lowered, indicating that someone was climbing onto it, but Libby stubbornly kept her eyes closed. It was only a matter of time before the phone started ringing, with people calling to remind her of how old she now was, and she wanted to savor the silence for as long as possible.

“How’re we gonna wake her up, Papa? Should we sing to her?”

“Please don’t sing,” Libby muttered, her eyes still closed.

“Mama!” a high-pitched voice exclaimed. “Happy Birf-day!”

A tiny pair of lips press themselves to her cheek and she smiled, against her pillow.

“Ah, there it is, true love’s kiss… Thank you, my love.”

“Hey there, _Snorey McDroolerson_ ,” came a low voice.

Libby opened one eye, to see her husband leaning over, grinning, his face close to hers.

“Hey there...” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “... _Farty Morningwood_.”

Jerry snorted, as a peal of laughter escaped their small son. 

“Mama called you ‘farty’!” he laughed. “Do you _fart_ , Papa?”

“Everyone does, honey,” Libby yawned, as she turned to look at the little boy.

“Except your mama,” Jerry grinned, at their son. “Because she is _perfect_.”

“You don’t fart, Mommy?” Nicky looked at her with wide eyes.

“Of course I do,” Libby replied, smiling. “Everyone in the world does… Mama, Papa, you, Corky, Arnold, Paige, Becca-”

“ _Becca_ farts?” he gasped.

“Yes, because it’s natural and _everyone_ does it, but she’d be angry if she knew that we were talking about it, so don’t tell her... Now, come here and give your mommy a kiss.”

Nicky scrambled to his mother, falling into her open arms. Libby kissed the crown of his head and pulled the covers around the two of them, so they could snuggle.

“You two make a pretty picture.”

She glanced up at Jerry and smiled.

“You shouldn’t tell him that I don’t do things that are natural, honey,” she chastised, softly. “Or that I’m perfect. He’ll grow up to have unrealistic opinions of women and I don’t want him having Mommy issues later in life.”

“Libs, you breastfed him until he was old enough to lift up your shirt and help himself, like it was free refills at McDonald’s – he’s already going to have Mommy issues.”

“You don’t have Mommy issues, do you, sweetie?” Libby asked, looking down at her son.

He shook his head and snuggled further against her T-shirt covered breast, clearly enjoying the warmth and softness of it.

Libby returned Jerry’s smirk, before planting another kiss on their child’s head.

“We made you breakfast, Mommy,” Nicky said. 

“You _did_? What did you make me?”

“French toast… but Papa didn’t do it right.”

Libby glanced up at Jerry, who shook his head and rolled his eyes at their son.

“What did he do wrong?”

“He didn’t put the raisin face on it like you do. He did it _different_ … And he burned the bacon hair.”

“Nicky, I’m sure your daddy did it as best as he could…” Libby said, giving Jerry a sympathetic smile. “It’s the thought that counts, sweetheart, and you and Papa making breakfast for me is a very _nice_ thought.”

“It’s cause it’s your birf-day! It’s a present.”

“You’re the only present I need, my love…” she smiled, at their little boy. “But I’m getting hungry, so let’s eat it, huh? You can share it with Mama, if you want to.”

Jerry climbed out of the bed and walked across their bedroom, to retrieve the breakfast tray, which had been set on the chair in the corner. He carried it over to the bed, where Libby had sat up, with Nicky burrowed against her side.

“Happy Birthday, sweetie,” Jerry smiled, setting the tray in front of her.

“Thank you, honey.”

She smiled and offered her lips to him, which he greedily captured with his own. He cupped her face and they shared several tender kisses, before he released her.

After they separated, they exchanged a long, loving smile.

“Why do you guys kiss so much?” their son asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Because we’re in love,” Libby answered, matter-of-factly.

“Nobody kisses as much as you and Papa do.”

“Well, everyone shows love differently, honey,” she explained. “Some people show it more than others and Papa and I like to show it to each other with hugs and kisses, that’s all. There’s no way right way or wrong way, just different ways.”

“Yeah, son,” Jerry said, ruffling the boy’s dark hair. “You should be happy that your parents love each other so much. Not everyone’s parents do.”

“You mean like Mama and Corky’s daddy?” he asked, innocently. “They don’t love each other, right?”

Jerry and Libby exchanged a look, before focusing again on their little boy.

“Not the way Papa and I love each other, honey,” Libby smiled, smoothing down his hair.

“Oh… Aren’t you gonna eat, Mommy?”

“Yes, I forgot! Thank you for reminding me.”

Libby looked down at the plate on the tray that her husband had set before her a few moments before.

The contents on the plate consisted of French toast and bacon. It was a favorite breakfast meal among her children, one they all had looked forward to on their birthdays, but Nicky was right. Jerry had not done this right… However, his effort was one made in love and that was what was important.

The raisins she usually used to make a smiley face on her children’s French toast had gathered to create some sort of of grimace that, when she tilted her head, looked like it was screaming in agony. In fact, it looked like it was screaming because of the charred bacon that was topping it’s head. 

It was the stuff of nightmares.

Smiling broadly, Libby turned to look at Jerry.

“It looks wonderful. Thank you, Jer.”

Jerry’s chest puffed out with pride and he looked down at their small son.

“See Nicky. It wasn’t so bad. Mommy _likes_ it.”

“Mommy hasn’t even tasted it,” Nicky insisted. “She doesn’t _know_ if she likes it yet.”

Libby tried desperately to suppress the smirk that had risen to her lips.

“You’re a very harsh critic, young man,” Jerry complained, eyeing the young boy.

“He takes after his daddy in that regard.”

Jerry looked toward his wife, in shock.

“ _I’m_ critical? How am I critical, Libs?”

“You’ve had your moments, Jer,” she insisted, with a smile. “I certainly was exposed to it when I was your employee…. Although that _eventually_ stopped.”

“Well, I learned pretty early on that it doesn’t pay to criticize the person you’re sleeping with,” he chuckled.

“Not if you want to _keep_ sleeping with them,” she teased.

He nodded, in agreement, and they laughed together.

“Ok, now let’s eat,” Libby said, as she used a spoon to scoop the raisins off the French toast. 

She was aware that Jerry and Nicky were watching her, anxiously, as cut the meal into pieces and poured syrup onto the plate. 

Before taking the first bite, Libby braced herself. While her husband was more than skilled in other rooms of the house, especially in the bedroom, the kitchen was not a room in which he excelled. He had spent far too many years as a bachelor, with the microwave serving as his best friend and personal chef, to learn how to cook well. 

“Go ahead, Libs,” he urged, smiling at her. “I wanna hear what you think.”

Slowly, while staring at her husband, she put the fork into her mouth. 

It was surprisingly good. The bread was cold and slightly gummy, but he had used the perfect amount of cinnamon, making it actually very tasty. She was pleasantly surprised.

“Well?” Jerry asked, eagerly.

“It’s delicious, honey,” she smiled at him. 

“You mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“Not at all. It’s wonderful. _Really_ … Thank you!”

Jerry turned and gave their son a smug smile.

“You see, buddy,” he said, gently nudging the boy with his elbow. “She _likes_ it!”

“I poured the juice, Mommy!” Nicky piped in, proudly.

“Oh, well, I have to try it then!”

Libby took a large gulp of the orange juice and smacked her lips, dramatically.

“It’s perfect, honey. Thank you so much!”

After setting the glass down, she reached over to cup Nicky’s head and pressed a kiss to his tiny lips.

“Papa,” Libby turned to her husband. “You _have_ to try this wonderful juice that this darling boy of ours poured for me. It is so good.”

Jerry took the glass from her hand and gave his wife a wink as he took a sip.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, looking at the glass.

Eyes wide, he turned to his son.

“Nicky, _where_ did you get this?”

Confused, Nicky looked at his father.

“You gave it to me, Papa. From the fridge.”

“This can’t be the juice I gave you. That was just regular juice. This… This is the _best_ juice I’ve ever tasted!”

“It is?” the child asked, in wide-eyed wonder.

“It sure is, isn’t it, Mama?” Jerry said, returning the glass to his wife.

“Absolutely, the best!” Libby agreed. 

“Nicky,” Jerry continued. “You’re gonna have to be the one to get juice for all of us from now on, because I think you have the magic touch.”

The little boy looked back and forth between his parents and grinned, proudly.

As Libby gazed at her youngest child, her heart swelled with love for him. Gently, she stroked his cheek.

Nicky was her miracle baby, her perfect boy and his father’s son, through and through. He wasn’t one to show his feelings to everyone but he was a gentle soul who was in constant need of the approval of those he loved, the same way Jerry did.

The three of them turned back to her birthday breakfast and managed to devour the meal in a matter of minutes. 

“That was delicious, you two. Thank you,” Libby smiled, as she leaned back against the headboard.

“What do you want to do today, sweetie?” Jerry asked, as he removed the breakfast tray and set it back on the corner chair. “We have plans for the evening, but the morning and early afternoon is all ours.”

“You didn’t plan a party or anything, did you, Jerry?” she asked, trying to sound casual but praying he hadn’t done something like that. 

“No, I know how much you hate that… I booked us all a table for dinner tonight – your mom and dad, Corky and Amanda, Paige and her boyfriend, you, me and Nicky... And afterwards, you and I are going out on a date,” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her, from the other side of their bedroom. 

“A date?” she repeated. “But what about the baby?”

“The _baby_ isn’t a baby anymore and he’s going to stay with your parents. They’re going to stay the night here, while you and I go out for a few drinks, some dancing and then off to the Glenbrook Inn to spend the night there.”

“You got us a room _there_?” Libby asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Nothing but the best for my love,” he grinned, thrilled that she seemed to be excited.

“And dancing? Jer, you _hate_ to dance.” 

“Yeah, I hate to dance but I love _you_ and, if making a fool out of myself and showing the whole town of Glenbrook that I have no rhythm will make my girl smile, I am willing to do it.”

Libby gave Jerry a soft smile.

“So, as I was saying, what do you wanna do today, Libs?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a little birthday morning cuddle with my two Berkson boys,” she smiled.

As excited as a child at Christmas, Jerry raced across the room, scrambled into their bed and pulled his wife into his arms. Libby rested her head against his chest, their son sandwiched between then, while Jerry stroked her hair. 

“How old are you today, Mama?” the little boy asked, suddenly, as he cuddled up to his parents.

“I’m forty-five.”

“Wow! Is that old?” 

Jerry let out an involuntary chuckle, causing Libby to shoot him a look.

“It sure is,” Libby said, giving her son a wry smile. “Thank you for reminding me, baby,” 

“Your mom isn’t old, Nicky.”

“Is she older than you, Papa?” Nicky asked, curiously.

“Uh, no.”

“How old are _you_?”

“Um… I’m forty-eight,”

“That’s _really_ old, Papa!”

Libby glanced at Jerry, trying to keep from smirking.

“You think so, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Nicky nodded. “Cause I can’t even count that high… I’m not even four yet.”

“Well, you’re almost four,” Jerry smiled at him. “And wait until you’re 18, buddy - it’s all downhill from there.”

“How old will you be when I’m that old, Papa?”

“When you’re eighteen, I’ll be sixty-five.”

“Whoa!” the little boy breathed, his already wide eyes the size of saucers.

“Yeah, _whoa_ … Your mom and I are gonna ship you off to college and then we’re gonna move into a retirement home.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a place where old people live. I’m gonna spend my days golfin’ and keepin’ the old men off your mother.”

Nicky’s tiny brow furrowed.

“Why would old men want to be on Mama?” he asked his father.

“Yeah, Jer,” Libby grinned. “Explain to our baby why old men would want to be _on_ his mother.”

“Because, Nicky,” Jerry explained. “Your mom’s going to be the hottest number to ever hit that retirement home and the old men are all going to want to make her theirs… but she belongs to Papa.”

“And me!”

“And you, of course… Mama belongs to both of us.”

“Is that true, Mama?” Nicky asked, looking up at his mother.

“Of course it is,” she murmured, holding him close to her. “You and Papa are my true loves and I belong to both of you.”

“And what about Corky? Is he your true love, too?”

“Absolutely. Your brother, your sisters, Grandma and Grandpa. I’m all of yours.”

“I’m glad, cause I wouldn’t want a different mama,” Nicky yawned, closing his eyes, drowsily.

Libby leaned down to kiss the top of his head, as he drifted off to sleep. She felt a hand touching her face and looked up, to see Jerry smiling at her.

“I wouldn’t want a different one either,” he murmured. “Not anyone else on earth.”

Libby blushed and smiled.

“Happy Birthday, baby.” 

Jerry pressed his lips to hers and Libby returned it happily. When they parted, she buried her face against neck and they laid there listening to the sound of their son’s deep breathing.

This was what Libby had been searching for her entire life. To love. To be loved. To be happy.

She was content and that was-

Downstairs, she heard her other son calling her, from the kitchen. Before she could answer him, the front door opened and another voice called out for her. Her name was hardly out of her eldest daughter’s mouth, when the phone began ringing. Her younger daughter calling from college, no doubt. Or maybe it was her mother and father.

The silence was gone and the house was filled with the sounds of all the people who loved her most in the world, each wanting to give her birthday greetings and tell her how much they cared about her.

Forty-five was ok. 

In fact, it was wonderful.

-


End file.
